


Extensions are More Than Limbs

by somethingmuchworse



Series: Extensions are More Than Limbs [1]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Awkward Situation, Carlos - Freeform, Cecil - Freeform, M/M, Masturbation, Night Vale, Other, Tentacles, Welcome to Night Vale - Freeform, wtnv - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:17:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingmuchworse/pseuds/somethingmuchworse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Night Vale was a place of indescribable horrors, invisible teleporting architectural structures, and the where time did not properly work.  In a way, it had been the scientist’s dream when he had arrived in the strange little community. Something new to discover and explore. People may not have known it but studying the density of grey matter and prodding at goo-like experiments were not the most mentally stimulating activities out there.  </p><p>*****</p><p>A mix of pleasure and shame fill this scientist as he embarks in his relationship with the Voice of Night Vale to find that there is more than what he seems to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Extensions are More Than Limbs

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there friend, 
> 
> Currently I am only testing out my ability to write actual fan fictions and plan to turn this into a short story.
> 
> Thank you for any feed back given and I appreciate it.

Night Vale was a place of indescribable horrors, invisible teleporting architectural structures, and the where time did not properly work. In a way, it had been the scientist’s dream when he had arrived in the strange little community. Something new to discover and explore. People may not have known it but studying the density of grey matter and prodding at goo-like experiments were not the most mentally stimulating activities out there. 

From a forgotten time, as a college student, Carlos had passed into and Ivy League school fairly easily on his grades and standardized test scores alone. A brilliant, soon-to-be, addition to society, they had called the budding scientist, that he would do much good for the world. Sure, he was a brilliant mind, he could actually think without idiotic things clogging up his mind and that is why he had spent most of his time alone. In a dark library with his nose shoved into his books with only the singular light illuminating in his cubicle.

Carlos had been such an idiot. Going about the path all the other minds were going, heading into the inevitable fact that in a few years he would only end up being a science teacher in some high school classroom where none of the students gave a damn about their minds and educations. 

And his hypothesis had been correct, he had ended up one of those science teachers. Bored enough and full of loathing for the students which came into his classroom each day. Carlos wasn’t a hateful person, not at all, though it hadn’t been what he had planned for his life. 

Of course his science career had not stopped there. Sure, he had a doctorate in the sciences, though specifically in Molecular Biology and Biotechnology and Geological Sciences, but he did not want to brag. With his education and his natural brilliance, the time he had outside of his classroom he spent writing journal upon unpublished journal of his experiments, recording seismographs around the San Andreas Fault area and indeed came up with the best journal of his life, predicting the next catastrophic earth quake. 

The journal in which failed the moment he send it into the scientific community to be published was simply laughed at, that his readings had been circumstantial though Carlos knew they would be wrong. And when the time came, they would regret it. 

Though more came from that day then just anger and ridicule, indeed, he met a man whom he didn’t quite remember now, though he had given him a grant. A sum of money and a slip of paper with scrawled coordinates in what looked like food dye, to places unknown in a small tan packet. It came as a surprise to him though at the time he had been rather emotionally compromised.  
The first thing Carlos had done when he came home to his small, cluttered apartment and sent in his resignation letter. 

Good riddance. 

Though Carlos would never admit it, Night Vale had been one of the best things that had happened in Carlos’ life. The year in which he had spent there was packed full of horror and excitement, a strange mix of emotions packed into his chest and mixed like a martini in a shaker. The laboratory in which he had rented had been more than he ever imagined, a large facility with already installed, beeping equipment. 

Even with this, Night Vale had brought him much more then equipment and purpose.

Carlos had met him.

 

*****

 

Sweat tricked down the side of Carlos’ head, originating in his hair before dripping down over darker skin, stalling at his temple before making its way down his neck. The laboratory was quiet; it would be silent if it were not for strained breathes coming from a familiar Night Vale outsider. Urges did not come often, rarer then Night Vale itself for him to be in the mood to go to the parts of the internet most normal people found distasteful. Though, Carlos knew that Night Vale was no normal place and the population statistics, which rapidly changed on a weekly basis, were not filled with normal people. 

Sitting on the metal stool was not the most comfortable position for the task at hand. The metal felt especially cold against his rump where his briefs had been tugged down, though after a while it was fairly comfortable though with a wrong shift he felt the coldness of the stool against more exposed skin. His legs were spread eagle, the heels of his black and white Converse resting on the frame of the stool. His button up, red plaid shirt had become half un-tucked, the back neatly tucked in while the front had been pulled out. Carlos’ belt had been pulled apart and trousers unbuttoned. 

This far in the process he had wriggled his trousers down, the hem of his trousers now resting lower, more so around his upper thighs. The outside in which was layered with a fine amount of thin, dark black hair which also covered his forearms and down his legs. 

For quite a while now, his eyes were trained on the computer monitor before him, those pupils dilated enough to nearly ellipse his dark brown iris. Arousal, it was clear in all his motions as, with need, he palmed his own straining erection, just barley being held behind those black briefs. The high pitched noises of the videos he watched were always unrealistic as he watched large breasted, animated women being assaulted by some type of demon or sea creature. The noises they made and words in which were spoken in another language as tentacles filled all of their cavities with itself. 

The idea made the scientist shiver, the idea of so many things going into him all at once, the sensation of being so full. The thoughts went right to his head, fingers dipping behind a loose elastic band and up against his own extremity. Carlos, over his rather lonely years, had learned to pleasure himself, tease himself into a gentle orgasm. The videos always help, the noises, the sound of gushing filled his ears as he imagined himself in those vulnerable positions. In his last, trembling moments of pleasure he slipped his member from his briefs, feeling the warmness of his own semen in his hand.  
And then the self loathing hit. 

Carlos looked down at himself then up at the screen, the blue haired goddess currently being held up in an arched position in the air, the almighty god Poseidon having his way with her. Digusting. At first Carlos had the idea to brush the semen off onto his casual lab coat but held back. The lab coat didn’t deserve that, and Carlos wouldn’t forgive himself if it would stain. 

That would just leave a mark for how disgusting he was. 

The ring had come out of nowhere, Carlos’ head twisting to look towards the door to his laboratory, before beginning to scramble. Someone was outside, someone was waiting for him and if it were one of his team they would possibly just-  
Without a moment of hesitation, Carlos pushed his now limp penis back into its briefs, his breath still rather heavy from orgasm. The pants proved themselves easy as he pulled his pants up with one hand, the other still coated in his own seed, buttoning his pants back up. Smearing his hands in the recently cleaned Petri dish had been a spur of the moment idea, getting most of it off and rubbing the last bits into the back of his jeans, over the pocket, though it blended into the material. 

Taking in a deep breath, Carlos straightened himself out and approached the front door of the laboratory.


End file.
